Companion piece to 10x22 – Drive.

If Only

If only.

They seem to be the only words going through my head lately.

Since the night my son died.

Everything's different now; the people around me are different.

I appreciate their concern, but I see the looks in their eyes. Pity, empathy at the loss of a child I'll never know. A child who never had the chance to live. They express their sympathy and stay away. I notice them keep their distance, I suppose I appreciate it in a way.

There's one person who doesn't keep their distance. Consoling me with heartfelt words of sympathy. She asks me if I'm okay, much like everyone else has done. But it's different, so different I can't seem to form the automatic response that has become second nature over the last week.

I stare at her, a lump forming in my throat as she stares right back.

"You'll get through this."

Her hand is on my arm, her voice confident and assuring. Two words run through my head; if only.

If only my baby had lived. If only Kem and I had been able to do something to prevent this. Sometimes I go as far as; if only I hadn't gone to Africa. But I know its not fair, and the pain I feel is not Kem's fault. It's not anyone's fault. An accident. My son dying was an accident.

I leave the hospital after my shift, the pouring rain suiting my mood. I pull out an umbrella, only briefly considering walking out into the rain and letting it soak me. I hear a cry of triumph as I round the corner, to see Abby beaming from ear to ear.

"Good news?" It strikes me that I may never have seen her look so happy in the four years I've known her. She's like a different person since I got back from the Congo. Confident, smiling, just...happy.

She apologises for her delight, sending her love to Kem. I'm speechless again, nodding slightly in acknowledgement before moving away. I turn back as I finally form the words I want to say.

"There was never a doubt in my mind."

The smile she gives me is beautiful, piercing my grief-laden mind for a second. I realise then, if I'm honest with myself, the words if only had started running through my mind the minute I saw her that day at the hospital, Kem by my side. I had shown her the sonogram, registering the fleeting expression of hurt on her face before it was covered with a forced smile.

If only I hadn't left you behind.

At the time it had been a wayward thought that I hadn't thought much of, but now, seeing her glow with pride at passing her boards, it runs through my mind again.

If only I hadn't left you behind.

I turn my gaze away, walking on through the rain. I hear another exclaimation of delight and can't stop myself turning to look over my shoulder.

She's heading back inside, still smiling, her shift still having another hour to go. I realise I wouldn't mind talking to her about this. In fact she's the only one I could imagine talking to about all of this. But it wouldn't be fair. She's worked so hard to pull her life together, whilst mine has fallen apart.

Oh, Abby.

If only.